Page 45 of Nanny for the Damaged Ex-SEAL

I run my hand along the tattoos on his back. They cover the entire area. He has them on his chest, too. I move my hand to the one on his arm, tracing the designs with my fingers. Then I get to the scar on his upper arm. It's deeper than it looks, and the skin covering the spot is shinier than the rest of his skin.

"How did you get this?"

He sighs as though he's going down memory lane. As though my question has ripped the wound open again.

"On a mission. We were laying an ambush, but we didn't know we were in the middle of one. A bunch of explosions went off all around us and I was hit. It tore my upper arm open. I was away from duty for months, and I would have been honorably discharged if I wasn’t determined to keep going. I fought to stay in. I'm surprised it healed this well."

I run my fingers over it and kiss it. He smiles. I continue to run my hands over his tattoos. When my fingers get to a tattoo that has always caught my attention, I stop.

"What's this tattoo?"

He doesn't need to see it. It's a tattoo on his back, just below his shoulder on the right.

"It's called a Bone Frog."

"Does it have any meaning or do you just like it?"

"I got it after my first mission. It's a tradition to honor the ones we lost in battle."

"Oh." I press my fingers along it to feel the skeleton-like body art. "Why the bones of a frog? Why not the bones of a lion or a horse? Horses are strong."

He sputters out a laugh and draws me closer. "It's a tradition that existed before me. Way back to World War 2."

I draw closer to him too. "You're such a sweet person. Why do you wear a mask?”

"I'm not sweet. I'm a bull," he says jokingly. "We all wear a mask, don't we? Not necessarily to deceive people, but to protect ourselves."

"From what?"

"From getting hurt, maybe. But I don't regret letting my guard down with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you make me happy. And I'm sorry I was such a dick to you before. I was going through stuff but that doesn't excuse my behavior."

"Thank you for apologizing. And I'm sorry for what I did and said, too."

"You know, now that I think about it, it's really silly that we fought all these years over pudding."

"You said my pudding was flavorless. Never criticize a woman's pudding."

"I never said it was flavorless. I said that it lacked something. You overheard me and told me if I didn’t like your pudding, I could go to the kitchen to make my own."

I laugh. "I was pissed. After putting so much time into making food for everyone, only to hear someone criticize it.”

"Well, I didn't say it was flavorless. It's important to get the facts straight," he jokes.

"And here we are years later still fighting over whose cooking is better."

"We’re still on for our pasta battle, right?"

"Absolutely," I reply and laugh.

We lay in silence for a few seconds and I breathe in the peace I feel in the moment. That I'm finding peace with Connor is still wild to me. Connor, the man who terrorized me for years.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you when I saw you dancing with Ethan that day.”

"It's fine. It's good to see you doing the dancing now. Especially your killer Running Man."

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